If You Had a Part of Me, Would You Take Your Time?
by singyourmelody
Summary: Sometimes she thinks her outer skin, the one that's invisible and comprised of the words "Queen" and "Highness" and "Royalty" is actually so thick that no matter how hard you try, you could never fully break it apart. Lisa and Joshua.


**If You Had a Part of Me, Would You Take Your Time?**

by: singyourmelody

Disclaimer: I do not own Joshua, Lisa, or any of the other "V" characters. Only own the plotline and any names you don't recognize. This is both pre-series and post-series with a little during-series mixed in. Hope that's not too confusing. Title is adapted from Sufjan Stevens' "For the Widows in Paradise" and the song lyrics sprinkled throughout are from Radical Face's "Welcome Home."

* * *

When she is twelve, she is chosen. Anna is the mother to all of the Vs, but she knows she will eventually need a successor. Lisa did not understand what it meant, only that she is now referred to as "Your Majesty." She loves those words for the first week she hears them. She loves the admiring looks the people give her, the way they slightly bow when she and Anna walk down the corridor. But the novelty wears off. She begins to realize what being the future queen means. Then she wants to go back.

When her name was called, every V at the ceremony had turned to look at her. And Lisa had turned to look at Maria. Maria was her nurse, the woman who had raised her, the closest thing to a mother she had ever known. Maria's eyes filled with tears as she nodded towards Lisa, encouraging her to take her place next to her new mother. Lisa had reached up and lightly touched her blonde hair, the hair that Maria had so carefully brushed and gently braided for the ceremony. She had taken extra time today and Lisa couldn't help but wonder if she knew.

Her hand had dropped to her side and she had looked around at all of the Vs, frozen, before Sarai finally pushed her. "Go, Lisa. It's you," she had said. And Lisa stumbled forward into her new life.

* * *

She's quickly caught up in the history of her people, the traditions passed on from generation to generation, the critical events that created the race they are today. She's learning so much, nothing more so than discipline and the idea that for everything there is a time.

Her mother (it still feels strange to call her high commander that term) instructs her daily and Lisa realizes that she hasn't been placed into a position of honor, but one of servitude.

She is to be a servant to the people and most of all to Anna.

It's strange, because in all of the observing she does of her mother, she doesn't really see the same sort of servant demeanor in her mother's actions.

But she disregards this. She has always been good at doing what she is told.

* * *

She learns about the Fifth Column when she's fifteen and Sarai is taken away on suspicion of membership.

It's a complete betrayal of their way of life and she is devastated, but not for the reasons her mother expects.

In reality, she just misses her friend.

* * *

and the backs of my eyes hum with things i've never done

* * *

"Your Highness," he says when she enters the high council room, several years after Sarai's loss. It is only the two of them in the room and she realizes this is the first time she's been alone with a male. She's not often alone. That doesn't mean she isn't lonely.

He's always so quiet and so gentle with her, like how Maria used to be. When he touches her, it rarely happens in their practices, but when it does, his fingers are feather light, leaving almost-invisible patterns across her skin.

She wishes he didn't act like she was made of glass. Glass shatters and breaks and is never put back together the same way again.

Sometimes she thinks her outer skin (not her human one, that one is damageable), her outer shell, the one that's invisible and comprised of the words "Queen" and "Highness" and "Royalty" is actually so thick that no matter how hard you try, you could never fully break it apart.

So she orders him to stop. His eyes are wide as she says this, but she needs someone, him maybe, to know.

There's a person in there. And he might be the only one who can see her.

* * *

She takes to invading his space. If he is the planet, then she is the Vs and he has no idea what she is doing and she doesn't either, not really. But she doesn't know how else to show him.

"What are you—?" he says harshly the first time she does it, but then he catches himself. His tone immediately changes to one of softness.

She wishes it hadn't.

He clears his throat. "Why are you standing so close to me, Your Majesty?" he tries again.

She's a few inches shorter than he is, she realizes now that they are two inches apart, her knee almost touching his. If she just bent it a little more. . .

"Highness?" he asks again. She looks up at him and narrows her eyes. He's not looking away, but is staring right at her.

"Does this bother you, Joshua?" she asks.

He doesn't respond at first, but she looks at him expectantly.

"Does it bother you?" he counters.

She shakes her head. "No."

He begins to step away, but she stares at him and he stops. Being this close, she can hear him breathing. It's not as even as she would have expected, but a bit ragged, as if he's trying to hold it in.

Her fingertips reach up and lightly touch his beneath his chin. "You're different, aren't you?" she asks.

Something like alarm, or possibly fear, flashes through his eyes and he steps back away from her.

"I'm a loyal servant," he says with too much resolve and some of the same harshness that was in his tone earlier.

She doesn't understand what just happened but she knows it's something he cares about.

She resolves to find out.

* * *

He figures her out.

He's smart and that's why she keeps coming back. So he takes to avoiding her. When she enters the medical ward, regardless of whether or not she's with her mother, he immediately busies himself. She curious about him; she can't really help it. He's rising in the ranks within their government and is becoming an ever present member of the Queen's high society.

During their routine meetings, she takes to watching him. And he's so so careful not to look at her. He might know what she is trying to do, even if she's not sure of it herself. She doesn't like the feeling that he knows more about her than she does, so she stops.

Her mother orders her to medical ward one day to inform him that Warren has died and that he is the new Chief Medical Officer. She's nervous as she walks down the crowded hallway. This will be one of her first official acts as future queen. Her mother had determined she was ready and she must make it at least appear that she is.

She arrives unannounced and he looks terrified and unaffected at the same time when she enters. She's not sure how a V can do that, but he makes it seem effortless.

She delivers the news, standing three feet away and he looks relieved at her proximity.

He nods, eyes down when she gives him his new commission and she is jealous of how at ease he seems with his newfound role.

"Congratulations," she says curtly and turns to leave.

"Your Majesty," he says, softly.

"Yes?"

Quickly he walks towards her and stands close, almost as close as she was previously.

He just stares at her and she matches his eye contact.

"I don't think that."

She's confused. "Think what?"

"That you're made of glass."

She nods then. He was listening.

"Thank you," she whispers, but she refuses to step away. They continue to stand there and she has started to notice how she can feel heat coming from his body and she catches the faintest smell of a chemical he must have been working with. Slowly, deliberately, he exhales, eyes never leaving hers.

The door slides open when two nurses walk in and by the time she has turned to see who has entered, he is back at his computer.

* * *

"Tyler Evans," her mother says. She is to embark on her first off ship duty as the personal friend to Tyler Evans. She asks why, but her mother ignores her question instead telling her that future queens don't ask why when they are told to do something by someone in higher authority. So she nods, feeling shamed, and leaves her mother's quarters.

He has floppy brown hair and blue eyes and is fairly easy to talk to, so she does as her mother instructs. She doesn't ask why him, why this teenage boy, what's the purpose of all this, but that doesn't stop her from wondering.

* * *

Joshua saves her and he is Fifth Column and she always wanted to know more, but now she's not sure. She had been right. He was different, just not in the way she had expected.

She failed the test, but he had saved her. Because his cause needs her, she realizes and tries not to be bitter about it.

He needs her and for the first time in her life, she's not sure who to trust. For the first time, she will need to discern things for herself. And maybe she will rise to the challenge and face the truth she's not so willing to believe could be real.

Or maybe she'll just fall apart under the weight of it all.

* * *

He's done something to her. His knowledge has done something. As she stands, chin lifted towards the soft light, like all of the Vs around her, she hears her mother's calming words. But nothing happens. She does not feel calm, she does not feel relaxed, she does not feel connected, except perhaps to him. She turns and looks at him; he is watching her, a small smile tugging at his lips. He knows that whatever she may do next, she's already been affected. This knowing has changed something in her. It's uncomfortable and it's scary, but she's starting to suspect that this feeling, this bubbling up of indescribable emotion, is real.

* * *

if you find one, please let me know what piece i've lost

* * *

When she was twelve and first moved into her new quarters, she would spend hours looking at her coronation gown, the one handed down from queen to queen. It was the most beautiful red and gold and patterned and like nothing she had ever seen before, so in contrast with her daily gray dress. She knew it would be many years before she would be able to wear it, but that didn't stop her from dreaming about it.

She can't help but think how ridiculous it is then that she can still feel the silky red fabric running between her fingers when she hands the smooth blue energy grenade to Erica.

As she tries to calmly walk to the medical ward to release Joshua she realizes that she'll never wear that dress now. And that nothing is turning out the way it was planned (always always so planned), but that maybe it's turning out the way it was always meant to.

He's trapped in a blue prison when she finally makes it to the medical ward, but at least he's alive. He looks a little surprised to see her, but mostly relieved.

There are two sides now and no space in between.

He had to have known she'd end up here.

* * *

She finds him after he has died and been brought back.

He's being held prisoner because Anna knows everything. Well, maybe not everything.

She still doesn't know about Lisa's part in the whole plot, which is why she is able to walk right into the confinement quarters and demand to see the prisoner.

He looks frightened and resilient at the same time and she begins to believe that she will never fully understand the duality of this man. She commands the guards to leave them and they do as they are asked, even as her voice wavers a bit.

There's a bruise forming over his left eye and he looks so worn down. Dying does that to you, she supposes.

"Joshua. . ." she begins, but his eyes shoot her a warning. He doesn't want her to reveal herself.

So she walks away.

* * *

She knows she should just let this go. He'll be okay. Maybe. And she'll remain safe.

It only takes her about thirty seconds to decide that she's not going to do what she should.

Knowledge is only powerful if you do something with it, after all.

* * *

"Your Majesty," the two orderlies say when she enters the room.

She sees Joshua, lying on the medical table, sedated. Her mother was planning another memory scan she realizes and this may be her chance.

"My mother has asked for the prisoner to be moved to the Tokyo ship," she states clearly.

The orderlies look confused and one begins to say something but she holds up her hand, effectively silencing him.

"She is waiting."

They slowly lift Joshua and place him on the gurney.

"Take him to the loading docks. I will be escorting him," she instructs, silently whispering a prayer to an unknown deity.

Ten minutes later she is guiding the shuttle to earth and she can't quite fathom how this actually worked out, but she contacts Erica and for a while tries not to think at all.

* * *

here, beneath my lungs, i feel your thumbs press into my skin again

* * *

She stays by his bedside when the sedation wears off and she thinks he'll be grateful for what she has done.

He's not.

He's furious.

Once he fully regains consciousness, he demands to speak to her alone. Erica and Jack quickly leave and he turns his gaze on her.

"What were you thinking?" he demands.

"She was going to kill you. Again," she says quietly.

"I know. That's the price I was willing to pay. And you, you—"

Now it's her turn to be furious. "I what? Saved you? My apologies. Didn't know you were so eager to die." She's never used sarcasm before and the words feel angry as they fall from her lips. They are fitting for what she is feeling. She stands in front of him and refuses to look away.

He opens and shuts his mouth a few times, trying to form words.

"You were going to die and I wasn't going to let that happen. Not when I could stop it," she says, filling the silence.

"I never asked you to do that. Now she knows that you are Fifth Column."

She's taken aback at that statement. She never thought of herself as one of the Fifth Column until he said it. But she has destroyed her mother's eggs and has run off with a prisoner, so she supposes it's true.

"I don't care. So she knows," she shrugs. This isn't true. She does care, but she doesn't want him to know that.

"We could've used you up there, Lisa! You could have saved so many lives," he's almost yelling now.

She steps closer to him. "I did what I needed to do. Certainly you understand that," she says, her voice strong and even.

"You didn't need to save me."

She shakes her head and turns to walk out of the room. "You don't get it."

* * *

They know they can't go back, so Erica looks to relocate them. She decides on Europe, Scotland in particular. The regulations are less strict, there are fewer Vs in the country, and they'll be able to blend in easier.

That's how they find themselves seated side by side on a 747 to Edinburgh. She's never been to Europe, never been anywhere specific really.

After three hours of silence, she turns to him.

"I'm sorry I ruined your life." Her sarcasm has returned. "Maybe I should have just left you there. Death is always better than having to move to some unknown country with a spoiled princess."

He visibly flinches at her words, but she doesn't regret them.

After a few moments, he speaks.

"I never thought I'd be so helpless." He says it so quietly she's not sure she heard him correctly.

"What—?"

"I can't do anything to help now. I've been found out. What purpose do I have anymore?" he says and she realizes that Anna has instilled the servant's mindset in more than just her.

She doesn't have the answer, but she hopes that someday it will come.

* * *

and the days blur into one

* * *

Scotland is beautiful and their house is lovely. It's so different from any place either of them has ever lived, that they stumble around it awkwardly at first.

They greet the neighbors in their small village as Jackson and Lauren Wilson, newlywed Americans living in Europe for the first time. They're all very cordial and their landlady is nice. Lisa's not sure if she's FBI or not, but she thinks maybe it's better if they don't know.

Joshua finds a job at the local hospital and she spends her time exploring the small towns nearby.

Erica periodically sends them news of the resistance. And it's frustrating because the more they hear about what the Fifth Column is doing, the more they realize that they are never going to be able to go back, and that to do so would mean certain death.

It's raining on the day they receive the news that Hobbes has been purposefully captured so that the Column will have a contact on the V's main ship.

He does not take this news well.

"They know what they are doing. . ." she offers.

"They wouldn't have to be doing it if you hadn't taken us off the ship."

She recoils as he says this. They've lived in Scotland for six months at this point and have settled into a semi-normal routine. She's gotten used to their life here. She thought he had too.

"You can't be serious."

He doesn't respond.

"How?" she says, stepping into his personal space like she did so many months before. "How do you expect that I could have lived with myself if I had let you die?"

He looks down at her, face unchanging. "I was willing to make that sacrifice for the resistance. People have to do that sometimes."

She shakes her head, hair swishing back and forth across her back. "And what makes up a resistance, hmm? People, Joshua. People with real feelings and emotions and strategies. And yes mistakes. People make mistakes. Maybe I should've thought it through more clearly. But I didn't have time. You can't keep punishing me for _saving_ you."

He sighs. "It's just that my whole life has been for the cause of the Fifth Column. And now, I don't know what to do with myself."

"And my whole life was to be the Queen. You're not the only one who has lost things, Joshua."

"You never wanted to be Queen anyway."

Her eyes flash angrily at him. "Don't tell me what I want."

"Lisa. I saw you on the day you were chosen. You were terrified."

"I was twelve."

"And there was a deep rooted fear in your eyes."

She is practically standing on his feet at she looks up at him. "You don't know me."

"I don't?" He raises his eyebrows.

"No. You only think you do. You hide behind your ideals and your Fifth Column ideologies, but you never have a real plan. What are the Vs to do if Anna is removed from power? Especially if I don't 'want to be Queen'?" she says, imitating his words, mocking them.

"We've never planned—"

"Exactly. You didn't plan. Removing Anna from power is the right thing to do. But how are you sure that whatever comes after her is going to be the right thing for the Vs?"

"I—"

"You what? You don't know. So stop pretending that you have everything figured out when clearly you don't. You're not the only one who feels helpless."

"What do you mean?"

"Those were my people, Joshua. The ones I had grown to care about. That I was going to grow up to care for. And I'm here, unable to save them from the one who is supposed to be leading them. But I never wanted that role, did I?" she snaps.

His face is covered with shock and maybe a hint of amazement. She's never spoken so forcibly in her life to anyone and it is exhilarating. She doesn't say anything else and neither does he. They're just standing there and the air is thick and slowly their breathing starts to align. She's still mad and he's still frustrated and they are tired of the status quo. The space between them, small as it might be, feels charged, like one little flicker of a spark might set the whole thing ablaze. His eyes are boring down on her so hard that she's not sure exactly what's happening, but she suspects that he might be seeing her, really seeing her for the first time.

"Look, I don't want to fight," she says firmly, lightly touching his arm, trying to break whatever it is. "We have to—mmph," she says, unable to continue because he has suddenly closed the small distance between them and his lips are moving over hers so fast that she's not quite sure how to respond, but she lets him take the lead.

And it's so different from kissing Tyler because it's not innocent. It's not young love and scribbled hearts in notebooks and all those fairy stories Maria used to tell her when she couldn't sleep.

No, this is something completely different, as they duel back and forth, emotions pouring out through action. His hands have wrapped around her waist and they are pulling her closer and closer until there is not a millimeter of space between the two of them.

He's kissing her hard and her lips are already feeling a little sore, but she puts her hands on his head and pulls him in closer, because she cannot get close enough. She can kiss as well as he can and can be as frustrated as well as he can and she is pushing him back into the wall. It's sending every feeling imaginable through her body. His palms are on her sides now and she's leaning into him so much, he's practically holding her up. It's nothing she's ever experienced before and she's not sure how to deal with any of it, so she breaks off the kiss and steps away from him in one fluid motion.

They are both breathing heavily and she's suddenly very aware of every nerve in her body.

"Why did you do that?" she asks finally.

"Why did you do that back?" he responds.

"I wasn't thinking," is all she can say.

"Neither was I."

"It shouldn't happen again," she says finally. "Because. . ." Because they are forced to live here together and because they are supposed to be married and because they are away from everything that is familiar and she is really having a hard time coming up with reasons why not.

But he nods and she thinks he understands. So she nods too. And their eyes are locked and suddenly the three feet in between them seems like far too much space and she is walking over quickly to kiss him again. It's just as fast and frantic as the first time and when his fingers lightly graze over the skin between her shirt and jeans, she thinks that she might never want him to stop touching her.

* * *

"You were partially right," she says as she walks him to work the next morning.

His hands are tucked behind him in his usual pose and there is much more space between them now.

"I didn't always want to be queen. For a long time, I was scared about what I would have to do. But now. . ." Now she has a honey brown dye job and small clear glass frames on her nose and isn't allowed to have a job because being a once future queen makes her stand out. Erica was certain someone would recognize her if she became too involved in anything, so she stays in the shadows. And she thought that she might like that for once, but she doesn't. Not at all.

He nods. "I was partially wrong too," he says. "You would have made an amazing Queen. I'm sorry I won't see it happen. "

She looks at him and can tell that he means it. They're standing in front of the hospital now and this is where she leaves him to go about his day.

She turns to go as he says, "I have my lunch break at eleven thirty. Do you want to join me?"

It's colder than most mornings and as she inhales, the icy air fills every part of her lungs. "Yes, I'd like that," she says.

* * *

He tries to have the relationship talk with her one night when she is reading. She sets down her book and he is fidgeting and stumbling over his words so much that she can't help but be a little amused.

"So what you are saying is that you want to have sex?" she asks, wide eyes staring up at him.

"What?" he screeches out. She knows that has nothing to do with what he was saying, but she couldn't help but play with his mind a little. He exhales when he sees that she is teasing, so she goes and stands behind him. She wraps her arms around his middle and rests her chin on his shoulder.

"If you want out, that's fine," she says quietly. It's easier to say this if she's not looking at him. "But as for me, I'm all in." She presses a small kiss on his left shoulder blade and lets go of him.

He stops her hand before she can pull it away and turns so that her eyes can meet his.

"I'm all in too."

He kisses her then and it's softer than before, slow like he's savoring it, and gentle, but not as if she's breakable and it leads to so much more.

* * *

"Did you always know?" she asks, rubbing her foot up and down his leg. It's become her favorite way to sleep with her legs tangled up in his, knees bumping up against each other, elbows, hipbones, hands touching.

He turns and looks at her. "Know what?"

"The day of my selection as future queen. Did you know we would end up here?"

He smiles a small smile and she can't help but smile a bit herself. He leans back and looks at the ceiling. "Of course not. Well, I didn't know you'd end up here. I figured along the way I would need to leave the ship at some point or that I would be killed." He props himself up on one arm and hovers over her, his other arm resting lightly on her stomach. "I'm glad that I wasn't killed," he says, smiling. He seems more accepting of his life here now, of the fact that he was given a second chance, that she was the one to give it to him. She knows it still bothers him that he can't be a part of the resistance. It probably always will. But he seems to be letting go. She's trying to doing the same.

She smirks. "Me too."

"And I'm glad that I'm here and that somewhere along the way I pulled this incredible girl into my crazy world and she didn't run away."

She looks away as he says the words "run away." Because that's exactly what she did. What they both did, her people left behind as the war still rages on. Her people, who have become the villains in the story because of the one who is leading them.

He senses her unease. So he reaches down and touches her face and forces her to look at him.

"You said it yourself, we had no choice," he says softly and she can't help but believe him, so she kisses him and he kisses her right back and as his lips move down her neck she has to remind herself to breathe, to exhale, that he isn't made of glass either and won't blow away with one breath.

* * *

She cries when she receives it in the mail.

He returns from his shift and finds her blubbering at their kitchen table, her fingers clutching the small piece of paper.

Immediately he rushes to her side and asks what's wrong.

She doesn't say anything, but just hands the paper to him.

He takes one look at it and lets out a huge, bellowing laugh. Sitting next to her he asks, "Why are you crying?"

"Because," she says between sniffles, "I don't know how to make a 'dish to pass.' I don't know how to make anything."

The Johnsons are having a cookout. And they've been invited, and it's so completely _normal_ that she desperately wants to go, but is secretly terrified that they'll realize she's not normal.

He laughs again and in some small part of her mind, she thinks she could listen to that laugh forever. Another part of her is mad at him for not taking this seriously.

Her displeasure must be showing on her face because he abruptly stops laughing and reaches out to hold her hand.

"Hey now," he says, "you know all of the governmental practices of a foreign race. I know the medical procedures of two different cultures. I'm fairly certain we can navigate our way around a recipe."

She's still a little skeptical and two weeks later when their kitchen looks like something exploded, she can't help but feel a little smug. There's water boiling over on the stove and two different timers are going off and he's covered in some sort of pink goo and making a pasta salad was not supposed to be this hard.

She's laughing at him now and in a quick moment, he swipes some of the pink liquid off of his arm and throws it at her. It hits her cheek and she can't believe what he just did. She looks hard at him and his eyes are presenting a challenge, so she sticks her hand in the open blender and retrieves the last of the pink stickiness that is covering him. Slowly she walks towards him and he looks like he's not sure if he should run or try to attack her first. She takes advantage of his indecision and smears the substance all over his hair.

"No way," he says as he chases her around the kitchen.

He ends up hugging her, enveloping her in his arms, and she gets just as covered as he is. They take a long hot shower and she takes extra time to make sure all of the pink matter is out of his hair, his eyes following her every move.

The pasta salad turns out okay, three tries later.

* * *

was never much but we made the most : welcome home

* * *

She stares one morning at the blank white wall in their hallway and decides that something needs to be done so she buys a camera. It takes a while for her to learn how to use it, but when she does she takes pictures of everything: the garden right after it rained, her freshly painted toenails, her first successful batch of cookies, Joshua when he is sleeping.

It's almost addicting how much she wants to capture every moment of their lives together. Not just the sights, but the sounds and the smells and all the things that make her feel alive.

As much as she tries to drown them out, Anna's words from the beginning of her training echo in her ears: "To everything there is a season, Lisa. Our time needs balance, actions and reactions." She's keenly aware of the word "time" now, as it passes slowly and quickly and she wonders if they will ever be able to go back, if their world will ever be safe for them again. She decides that maybe it's not a question of "if" but a decision of "when," and that when it comes down to it, life isn't about balance or actions or reactions, but of about choosing to hope.

He comes back from work one afternoon and finds her hammering away at the wall. She's so absorbed in her work that she doesn't even realize he's standing behind her until he knocks on her hardhat.

"Is this really necessary?" he asks, referring to the hat.

She shrugs. "I saw in a movie once that this is what humans wear when they do construction projects."

"And what are you building?" He's smiling at her determination.

She doesn't respond, but just pulls him back to look at the wall. It's covered with framed photos of their first year in Scotland and he takes a few moments to take in each one. His eyes especially linger on the one she took of the two of them during a picnic in the countryside. She's looking directly into the camera, while his head is turned as he kisses her cheek.

Finally he turns and looks at her. "Lisa, these are beautiful."

She can't help but feel a little proud. "I just felt like we needed to make this place more of our own. Since we have been here for a year and probably will be for a while still."

He nods. "It is ours. It's home."

The grin on her face is so wide it feels like it's breaking it into two, but she doesn't mind.

* * *

_Well this was a little all over the place and a little long, but I still kinda like it. I'm excited for the new season, but I hope they give Joshua and Lisa more to do. They (especially Lisa) could be so interesting._

_Thanks for reading and reviewing. Love to all._


End file.
